On Zion's Hill

  “So, yinz want two each vanilla, chocolate and strawberry, one bubble gum, and three maricopa? How dat black cherry going for yinz? Selling much of dat?

  “The black cherry’s been selling pretty steady, but we got enough for today and tomorrow. Stella doesn’t have that flavor on this list here. If we need more for Sunday, she’ll call you. Okay?

  “Okay. What other flavors you want here, and what you want over in da big freezer?’

  “Ummm,” Angie considers as she scans the freezer again to confirm which flavors are low. “Let me have one maricopa, one chocolate, and one bubble gum. The rest can go out back.”

  “No problem. I got some milk and cheese to deliver over to da Wilkins’ hamburger stand. Gotta go round der anyway. Here you are,” he grunts, shouldering Angie aside and dropping the giant tubs into the freezer. He knows the order in which Stella arranges their flavors, and he settles them in the right places.

  “And… Uh. Mr. Conley. You and the family want to come up to the grounds tomorrow night? Saturday is Youth Night. There’s gonna be some great gospel choirs coming from three states to put on a special concert after the evening service,” Angie gushes the invitation as he leaves.

  He nods, but says nothing. She goes on.

  “I hear they even got a band coming. The concert usually starts about nine o’clock and ends by ten-thirty. The old folks get pretty upset if it goes past eleven. You know how they are, don’t you?”

  “Yeah, I know how we are,” he chuckles. “I’m one a da old folks now, so I probably won’t be coming out that late. Saturday’s pretty busy for us down to da store. But I’ll tell da kids. You know dey all in high school now. Da oldest is driving and it’s not far from our house to come up here. Sure. Yeah. Thanks, I’ll let’em know. Nine o’clock you say?”

  “Yes, but they better come a little after eight if they want to find a place to park. You know how crowded it gets up here on the weekend. Those who live in town but are not staying for the concert probably will be leaving after the evening service. It usually gets out about eight-thirty on Saturdays so the concert can start on time.”

  “Sounds good. Thanks. I’ll tell da kids. Gotta get going. See ya Sunday morning. Yinz take care, you hear?” He hands Angie the invoice for the ice cream, leaves, careful to see that the screen door shuts tightly, climbs back up in the truck, and drives round back of the hamburger stand where Stella’s friend, Liz Wilkins, lets them use space in the corner of one of her big freezers.

  Angie notes the time and sees there’s not much left to finish here. She’s in a hurry to get back to the dorm to freshen up and change clothes. Ken just may stop by this afternoon. But after last night and the Lady in Navy, Angie wonders if he actually will come. She makes one more swipe across the lip of the freezer smudged when Mr. Conley jostled the jumbo ice cream tubs into place.

  She swishes the rag in the cooling rinse water and wrings it out, regretting the absence of rubber gloves. Her hands are crinkly and smell like Clorox. Not that it really matters. Ken probably won’t look her up this afternoon, and it’s too late to connect with anybody else. This week is just not working out as she had planned.

  Stella’s back now, doing her own visual survey of the place. Using the corner of the apron, Angie wipes her forehead again and dries her hands before taking off the apron and chucking it in the basket with the dirty towels and cleaning clothes. Stella will take the dirty things to the laundromat and return them for Saturday.

  “Ange. Will you take this dish pan back over to Liz in the hamburger stand? I borrowed it and promised to get it right back. I’m gonna carry these dirty things on out and put them in the trunk. Yeah, I know they’ll probably get sour in this heat, but I don’t have time to drive home now. I promised to meet my husband in the campground business office in half an hour to see if they’ve approved our vendor’s license for next year.”

  With the basket in one hand and car keys in the other, Stella shoves open the screen door and backs out saying, “ I better run over to our trailer and rinse off a bit. I’m past perspiring! I’m gone start sweating for sure!”

  Angie asks as she takes the basin, “What time do you want me back?”

  “I’m thinking five today. And Angie, can we count on you next year?

  “Yeah. Sure. And thanks. I’ve come to depend on this job myself,” Angie replies as Stella hands Angie the key to lock up.

  “Thank you. Angie. We’ll be glad to have you back.”

  “But,” she murmurs to herself,” it’s cramping my style! What’ll I wear this afternoon? It’s gotta be something nice, and something that will look nice just in case Ken comes back. I may not have time to change later. Hmmm. It’s Friday, Men’s Day today. Wonder who’s preaching,” she ponders as she locks the door and leaves.

  She knocks on Stella’s side door. In fact, both doors are on the side. It’s a mobile home with a front side door and a back side door. Stella’s family has a special permit to set up their trailer close to the ice-cream stand so they can have access to water and a stove to heat the water for cleaning. They have one of those experimental gas-generators. Still, it takes about an hour to boil the water in one of those blue-speckled canning kettles that Stella leaves warming on their two-burner hot plate. They use a couple of pots full just for the ice cream stand.

  “Well?” Stella asks as she swings open the trailer door to let Angie come in with the Thermos. “I forgot to ask. How’d it go? Did Mr. Conley have all the flavors we need?”

  “Yeah, he did. He brought some in and took the others over to Liz’ freezer. You should have seen him scrutinizing the place. Inside and outside.”

  “Everything okay?”

  “He didn’t say anything. I guess he’s satisfied.”

  “Good. Anything else?” she asks, swinging the door a little wider.”

  “No,” Angie replies, one foot on the cinder block step and holding the dish pan on her hip. “Oh, yeah. I invited him to the concert tomorrow night. He said he and his wife probably won’t come, but his kids may. Do you think they will? Not too many white townies usually come up here for the services, do they?”

  Stella closes the screen door, but stays inside. “Some years, lots come. Other years, not so many. It depends on who’s speaking. You did your job, Angie. You invited him. I do know that he and his wife are Christians, active in their own church.”

  “Yeah, I thought they might be. Mr. Conley is nice, even with his laser-like x-ray eyes checking out the place whenever he comes. You see the Conleys much around in town?”

  “We see them sometimes at community service meetings. When the high school team made state finals last year, the Conleys had a fundraiser in their store to help the guys with travel expenses. Yeah, my husband and I find them to be good partners here on the grounds and in town.

  “Oh, and he mentioned his regulars down at the town parlor miss the black walnut ice cream too. Anything else?” Angie asks, backing away from the door, eager to get going.

  “Nothing more to do, but there is something else. You know it’s going to be real busy this weekend, especially with the youth concert tomorrow night. So, I’ve ask Randy to come us help.”

  “Randy? Your son? Randy?” Angie’s stomach lurches. “I haven’t seen him around much this summer.”

  “He hasn’t been home. The college offered him a job on campus so he decided to take a couple summer classes since he was going to be there anyway. He wasn’t here last weekend ‘cause he had a paper due. Anyway, he’ll be here this afternoon.” she says with a proud smile.

  “But, but. Um. Won’t Randy just be in the way?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You and me, Stella. We got a system, a routine that works. There’s not all that much room in there, you know.” Angie flinches and wrinkles her nose. As much a stickler as she is for cleanliness, Stella didn’t seem to notice how funky Randy smelled coming to work, sweaty from shooting hoops. He was a royal pain, with BO to boot.

&
nbsp; Randy, tall and broad shouldered and handsome, played football in high school is a braggart always talking about how many admiring girls he had stringing along. She cannot imagine working in the tight space without brushing against him … by accident on her part; on purpose on his part. Just thinking about Stella’s son makes Angie cringe. Actually, she has been relieved he hasn’t been around this year.

  Angie doesn’t feel free to say what she really thinks about Handy Randy who thought he was hot stuff just ‘cause he was already in college. Ugh! He gave her the willies. Always coming on to her like she ought to be flattered he gives her the time of day; honored he deigns to bestow his attention on her. But worse than that were his wandering hands, brushing against her, bumping into her bottom… by accident, of course.

  She would be just a little uncomfortable about working in such a tight space with any twenty year old man. Now if it were Ken. That’d be another story. Another story indeed.

  “Well, if you think it will work,” Angie concedes. “I gotta get going, Stella. I need to get cleaned. I’m having lunch with my grandparents, but may have some time afterward. Ken may be coming by, too.” Or he may not. He may be having lunch with the Lady in Navy.

  The stand usually isn’t too busy when Stella opens after lunch, so she hasn’t scheduled Angie to return until about five o’clock. It’s the fish sandwich and burger stands that are busy earlier. Folks sometimes amble over for ice cream afterward. Resigned to put up with Stella’s son, Angie hands over the Thermos and heads around to return the dish pan, and leaves for a much needed break.

  JUST TWO MORE DAYS AND CAMP MEETING WILL BE OVER. Angie had had a good time early this morning up on the hill, meditating and reflecting on God the Creator and God the Way Maker. But those feelings are fading fast. Apparently she hasn’t given this “thing” between her and Ken to the Lord. It keeps poking its way into the worry section of her brain and the wonder section of her heart.

  Until Thursday, it looked like she and Ken would be more than the typical one week stand…meet, spend time together, share a meal, exchange addresses, write twice…maybe three times…and get on with their lives. There seemed to be more. Well, appearances obviously can’t be trusted, even though Stella has said Angie should trust them.

  THE TWO OF THEM HAD BEEN DOING INVENTORY, getting ready for the expected weekend onslaught. They’d only been restocking, washing scoops and wiping things down and not taken time for deep cleaning until this morning. Yesterday, they chatted like friends, just from different generations.

  “You know Ken? How?”

  “Oh, Angie. Ken goes to our church. Or at least he did when he was growing up. He’s been away for nearly five years now. First off to the Air Force and now he’s in college.”

  “Yeah, I know that. He told me all about that.”

  “Well, you must know the young ladies at our church have set their cap for him.”

  “Set their cap?”

  “Yeah, you know. They primp and preen when he’s around.”

  “Primp and preen? What’s that?

  “Oh, you don’t know that expression either? Will you hand me that bottle of bleach? Gotta keep it clean around here or the Board of Health will shut us down.

  “Primp and preen,” she continues, “Oh, well, you know. Whenever the girls heard from Joann or Thia that Ken is due home for furlough or, now on break from college, they dress in their best clothes and flit and flirt around hoping he’ll notice them. Primp and preen.”

  “Has he dated any of them? Seriously, I mean.” Angie doesn’t want to seem too, too interested since this is just another camp encounter “Is Ken seeing anyone this summer?” Angie isn’t sure she wants to hear all this. Still, truth be told, she is more than curious, quivering in anticipation, eager to hear, but fearful to learn.

  “I don’t think so. Haven’t seen him sitting with any of them in church. You know, when I think about it, he didn’t do much of that even when he was in high school.”

  “He didn’t? What’s the matter with him?”

  “Believe it or not, he’s always been sort of shy.”

  “Ken, shy? That’s hard to believe. I thought he was in a singing group.”

  “Not anymore. I don’t think so anyway. All the guys in the group have left the Valley now. Yeah, in high school he and the Cooper boys sang in an a capella quartet.”

  “Really? Where’d they sing?”

  “Oh, they used to sing at school dances and such. They were pretty good, too. I heard them once when the guys entertained at a party our ladies group gave a party at the old folks’ home.”

  “What kind of music?”

  “Mostly close harmony songs of the forties. Not too much of the Elvis Presley rock and roll stuff. They did pretty good with new Motown and Philly sounds, too. My favorite, though, was ‘In the Still of the Night’.”

  “That’s some range of music.”

  “They really were rather versatile for an informal high school group. Ken also won awards competing with an Air Force quartet. He’s quite talented.”

  “Hmmm. It’s hard to imagine someone singing all in public and still be shy. But…he played basketball too, didn’t he?”

  “He still does. He’s a Nittany Lion for Penn State now. When Ken lived here, he was named the Most Valuable Player the year his high school team won the Valley Championship…and beat Coach Mac’s team in his own tournament!”

  “Coach Mac?”

  “Yeah, Coach Mac. Here in the Valley, Coach Mac is a legend. Until that year, he’d taken basketball teams to state championships for years. It was Hillside High, Ken’s team that broke that record.”

  “Really? Did you ever see him play?”

  “Sure, I was at that game with my family. We couldn’t decide whether to cheer for our high school or Ken, our friend from church. Ken shot the winning basket for the tie breaker! Nobody in the Valley’s ever gonna forget that game. I betcha Coach Mac hasn’t!” Stella did not stop scrubbing even as she related stories about Ken.

  “Our Ken and Hillside High broke Mac’s ten year winning streak! Everybody was sure Ken would get a full ride at a college. You know…to pay all his expenses.”

  “Full ride! That’s really something.”

  “You’re right about that. I heard Coach was so impressed with Ken that he offered to get him a couple of interviews with his personal coaching friends. Word was a couple of small schools did try to recruit Ken, but they didn’t offer enough money. That’s why he went to the Air Force.”

  “How come? Some money is better than no money.” Angie scorns, putting the clean scoops in jars of fresh water and setting them just so to be in easy reach when they opened the stand later in the afternoon.

  More folks than usual are on the grounds for Women’s Day. Must be Missionary Albert and Christine Taylor drawing them up here. Stella is planning for ladies to stop by after the mid-day service to extend their conversations with friends they’ve not seen and to share the specialty Conley ice cream they’ve not had since last year.

  “Well, my husband said Ken has always wanted to go to Penn State to study some kind of engineering. He’s like his folks, I guess. They don’t take second best if they believe waiting will get’em what they want. You know they’ve been living in a trailer for nearly ten years waiting to build the house of their dreams”

  Angie nods and she pulls the apron over her head and hangs it on the hood near the door.

  “You finished with those scoops?” Stella asks as she dumps the dirty water in a bucket and heads out the door to go for a nap in her trailer.

  THAT WAS WEDNESDAY. Today’s Friday. “Maybe that’s what God wanted me to get out of that conversation with Stella. Ken only wants the best and is willing to wait for it. Maybe he was only playing around with that Lady in Navy because he waiting for me to finish college. He’s probably not serious about her at all.

  “Tuesday, we both agreed that neither of us has time for a serious relationship right now. We have t
o dedicate ourselves to achieving our goals. Well…my goal this week was to meet a nice guy, spend time with him and to be seen walking around the camp grounds on the weekend when everyone comes. I almost made it. Almost.

  “But, what if he brings that woman back? If she dresses that sharp on Thursday, what will she be wearing tonight? I don’t stand a chance. God, why did you let me meet him and then let this happen? Why should I care, anyway?

  “Now, I probably won’t get off till a couple hours after service tonight! Even if Ken comes up tonight, he probably won’t want to wait around that long. Anyway, I’ll be too worn out to be good company anyway. Who cares? I’m having lunch with my Grammama and Grampoppa. They want to spend time with me and help me reach my goals”.

  In her mind’s ears, she hears her grandmother. “Angie, sweetheart. We’re so proud of you. You’re going be the first girl in our family to go to college. And you’re going to be a teacher.

  “Not many of our people even have the chance at college. Maybe you’ll be like Mary McCloud Bethune or Booker T. Washington. You remember me reading them books to you? They done a lot for our people, you know.” Then Grammama gives her a hug and hands her a crumpled five dollar bill.

  “Here, baby. A little something to help you ‘long the way. Grammama know it’s not much, but God can bless it and make it help you when you need it.”

  Angie had underestimated the cost of supplies for her sociology project. That week, Grammama’s five dollars was just enough for a bus pass. Without it Angie would have had to walk to work or hope to catch a ride until she got her next paycheck. Why is it so hard to trust a God who faithfully provides for her needs? Where is He now? I need some help with Ken or at least with my feelings about him!”

  NOW BACK UP IN HER ROOM, Angie realizes she has an hour before the morning ministers’ meeting ends and she has to meet her grandparents for lunch. She decides to shower later. Right now, a quickie nap. Lying with her hands clasped behind her head, hoping to catch up on the sleep she missed last night, Angie reluctantly admits to herself, “God has been good to me.” So many times in just this first year, Angie has received just what she needed to bridge the gap between not enough and just enough.